


home was never far

by sekiro



Series: Winds of Ashina [1]
Category: Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Amputation, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, wolf is saved and gets a better dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekiro/pseuds/sekiro
Summary: “You’re safe now,” the tengu says, just before Wolf passes out.“Sekiro.”
Series: Winds of Ashina [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210382
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	home was never far

Today, Wolf turns 18.

His birthday is in the month of January, when Ashina is at its coldest. The air bites, and snowy wind stings his face. He follows his father, who has given him nothing more to bear the cold - but this isn’t new. Wolf is used to it. He bears it in silence, like everything else.

Though he is cruel in his methods, Owl has, every year on his birthdays, given Wolf sweet rice balls as a gift. This year, however, he hasn’t; he has been gruff to him, taking him out into the winding mountain paths that lead to central Ashina.    
  
“You’re grown now, Wolf,” he says as they walk. “But are you a man? Or still only a pup?”

There’s something deeply unsettling in the way Owl speaks, and Wolf can’t read it, can’t understand the meaning behind it.    
  
He learns soon enough.   
  
One of the paths into Ashina is a long, tattered rope bridge. It crosses over one of the many valleys, and sways and shakes in the cold wind. Wolf can see it as they get closer, and wonders why they came here. Surely, his father has no business in Ashina…? 

Yet Owl stops some way away from the bridge, only eyeing it from their distance.   
  
“There’s a shrine on the other side of the valley. Do you see it, Wolf?”   
  
He looks. It’s hard to see through the snow and wind, but he can, indeed, see the vague, dark shape of a structure on the far end.   
  
“If you make it there,” Owl continues, “You will be a man. If not - then your corpse is useless.”   
  
Wolf is confused--

_ He learns soon enough. _

Wolf has turned 18, and for his birthday, Owl cuts off his arm and buries his blade in his stomach.

Wolf doesn’t scream, of course. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t so much as  _ whimper. _ He takes this pain and bears it in silence as he has everything else, keeps the silence even as Owl throws his weak, bleeding self onto the icy ground. Wolf can’t even find the strength to push himself upright again, and yet behind him, Owl scoffs.   
  
“The shrine on the other side of the bridge,” he reiterates harshly, and then he is gone into the howling wind.

_ He’s going to die here. _   
The thought feels certain - so much so that Wolf doesn’t even know if he wants to  **try.** The bridge is long and treacherous in the storm - even if Wolf were to make it that far. He’s still quite some distance away, after all, and every moment he stays idle on the ground is a moment he loses more blood, a moment his body gets weaker. 

It could be so easy to give up, if only to make the pain cease. But there’s a fire in Wolf, a drive to keep living. It’s the same drive that helped him survive the war, and it ignites in him now, desperately clawing at any sense of pride and determination he has left.   
  
He won’t let himself end bleeding and helpless on the side of the road like an animal.   
  
The first thing he does is sit upright as best he can, clenching his jaw through the pain in his torso. He takes his scarf off and, not without much difficulty, clumsily ties it around what is left of his cut arm. It’ll slow the bleeding, at least a little. Maybe enough to give him a chance. 

He tries to stand. And for a few steps he manages - only for his legs to give out under him. He hits the ground hard, and finally, a noise escapes him, a pained wheeze bordering on a whine. Now the crawling starts; one agonizing foot at a time he shuffles on his knees and remaining hand. In a way, the cold bite of the snow helps. It’s a distraction from the rest of the pain, and it’s numbing enough to keep him moving. 

The bridge is so close, and yet so  _ far. _ Finally, even his knees will not support him, and he finds himself on the ground again, pressing his face into the snow. 

_ There’s so much blood. _ He can barely think anymore. All he has is his own force of will, pushing movement into his limbs.

He’s crawling, reaching out with his one hand and clawing into the rocks and dirt to drag himself forward. It starts to hit him that he’s  _ not going to make it, _ yet this thought doesn’t slow him. He keeps moving, pitiful inches, keeping his eyes on the bridge. 

He doesn’t react when there are footsteps behind him. He doesn’t stop when suddenly, somebody is  _ speaking. _

“What’s this?” he hears. The voice is low and rough, but not cruel like his father’s. There’s a beat of silence as Wolf ignores it, still attempting to drag himself across the ground. When the moment passes, a big hand comes onto him, stopping him and turning him over onto his back.

  
What he sees is red. The scowl of a tengu’s face looks down at him, studying.

“What has happened to you, stray?” the tengu asks, but by his tone, he expects no answer.    
  
Wolf still tries, though. All that comes out is a wheeze.

“Do you have a name?”

Wolf lays there silently. He tries to find the strength to speak. It feels like ages pass, but it’s only the space of a few moments, wondering when the pain will  _ end. _

_ Yet he tries. _

“Ō..ka..mi,” he manages to press out,  _ finally _ . He doesn’t let the blood in his throat choke him. “ _ Ōkami. _ ” 

Up above him, the tengu laughs, loud and hoarse. 

“Wounded wolf… I can feel the strength of your will. You will not die here.”

When the tengu reaches his hands under him to lift him into his arms, the movement is so shockingly  _ gentle _ and tender that Wolf finally lets out the hurt whimper he’d suppressed all this time. He feels like he’s being cradled, and his words were so certain that Wolf almost thinks he can believe it. So he lets his head fall onto his shoulder, and closes his eyes to shut away the storm and the blood and the pain.

“You’re safe now,” the tengu says, just before Wolf passes out.    
  
“ _ Sekiro. _ ” 


End file.
